The Concierge: The Sequel

Sofie Jubelirer

Continued previously from The Concierge

Part One:

I woke up to the sound of beeping, eerie beeping. My vision was a bit blurry, and all I could see was the color white—white walls, white bed, white floors. Slowly, I could make out objects from the shapes in the room: a square became a heart monitor, a circle became a clock. As I looked around, I saw I was laying down in a small bed, dressed in some sort of gown with IV fluids and bands around my arms.

I was baffled; I knew this was a hospital, but why was I here?  I tried to think long and hard about why I was in a hospital, but nothing came to mind. Suddenly, I felt my head start to throb with a pain so excruciating that I felt like I was on fire. 

Two people, a nurse and a doctor, rushed through the door

“Hi there Skye, I’m your doctor, Dr. Ramiz. Glad you woke up! You seem to be looking a lot better than last night.”

“Oh, um… hi.”

Those were the only words that came out of my mouth. I was still in shock from the pain, and my confusion was only growing. I felt like a foreigner, stuck in a world where I knew no one and no one knew me.

“Sue, fetch another bag of IV fluids, it seems we need some more for Ms. Skye here,” said Dr. Ramiz in a surprisingly cheerful voice.

Dr. Ramiz seemed nice; her smile was wide even though she worked in a hospital. Her eyes were hazel, her face soft and youthful. I didn’t know anyone here and couldn’t seem to remember anyone either, but felt comforted  to have Dr. Ramiz.

“Dr. Ramiz? Do you know, well um, why I am here? All I remember… actually, I can’t seem to remember anything at all.”

“Sure! Your name is Skye Martin, you are 16 and have two parents, Lola and Seth Martin, and ended up here…well we don’t know the reason why. All we know is that an elderly woman found you lying in an alleyway on the end of Walnut and 4th Street. You were passed out and no one was near you. Our initial diagnosis was that you fell and knocked yourself out, but this pain that you’ve been having all throughout your body…it’s…unusual.”

My head was still throbbing, and all that information made it throb even more, making my throat dry.  I took a deep breath and asked Dr. Ramiz for a minute alone.

“Sure, I’ll be back in a bit. Press the button if you need anything!”

I was lying in this hospital unable to recall my own life and here was some stranger who knew more than I did. Besides the fact that I had passed out and was undiagnosed, at least I had a family. Hopefully, they come looking for me so I can get out of this dull hospital.

I was still in bed and any little movement still set my body on fire, the pain strangling me so hard I almost lost breath. The room got hot and hotter, so I just sat there staring at the wall praying it would go away. On the side table, I noticed white roses and suddenly, a memory came to me.

I saw my young self and two other hidden faces in an auditorium. I was in some sort of costume, and the two people had a bouquet of white roses which they handed to me. My eyes lit up and my mouth widened, but I realized I was still staring at the vase on the side table, unaware that I had been zoned out for the past minute.

That’s when it hit me—I had just remembered something from my own life! I almost fell out of my bed with joy, smiling for the first time since I woke up.  

I pushed the button on the table to call in Dr. Ramiz, and she came running in.

“Skye, is everything alright?! Are you hurting again?! Do you need help?!”

“No, no, no. I just wanted to tell you… I had a memory come to me, all by myself!”

“Jeez, you scared me with the button. Next time, use it only if it’s an emergency. But that’s great!”

“Does this mean I will regain all my memory?”

“Well, since we don’t know the cause of this incident, we have  to keep you under lots of observation. But yes, you soon may start to regain your memory by looking at different objects that might trigger events. We don’t know for sure. When your pain is gone, we will let you return home so your family can help you regain your memory.”

I was thrilled by the prospect of leaving this hospital and becoming a normal teenager again. Looking out my window, I saw darkness and as I closed my eyes, I could feel butterflies in the pit of my stomach. I thought about when my parents would come and how long it would take for my life to return to normal. Suddenly, I heard a piercing, screechy voice from somewhere in the distance.  


“Please, be quiet, Skye is sleeping right now, but we’ll let you see her in a bit.”

I recognized the second voice as Dr. Ramiz. I couldn’t hear exactly what was said after that, but I think my parents finally came, and I was thrilled.

After a moment, two people came charging in the door.

“Oh sweetie, we’ve missed you so much! I can’t tell you how glad your father and I are to see you. We were worried sick!”

“Mom? Dad?”

I saw the two of them tear up and all of a sudden, and they rushed over to give me a big hug. I was a bit teary too, but grateful that they were here. 

Dad was a tall, slim man with dark black hair. His hazel-green eyes were so deep they looked like they were staring into your soul; Mom was a petite woman with long brown hair and dark brown eyes, but had a plump round face that made her shoulders look broad and menacing. Their faces looked subtly familiar, so that was a good sign.

“Could we see some ID of Skye’s to confirm that she is your daughter?” said Dr. Ramiz.

Dad pulled out a wallet.

“Here. This is Skye’s drivers license, she left her wallet with us at the hotel before she went missing. Here’s a picture of us as well, our phone numbers, and more if you want to see,” said Dad.

“That’s plenty, thank you. Skye, I’ll leave you to talk with your parents for a bit. Let me know if you need anything.”

As Dr. Ramiz left, I examined my parents. They smiled, but it did not feel genuine to me, something felt…off. But then again, I had lost all my memory and was a medical mystery, so maybe I’m  not the best judge of character. I was so eager to learn about my life, recall old memories, and gain back my self identity.

“So, can you guys tell me some memories about us, myself, my family, friends, you know, EVERYTHING?”

Mom and Dad looked at each other fearfully. Why would they be nervous to tell me about myself? Maybe they just didn’t want to tell me about the bad memories, like when a pet of mine died or something.

“We’ll go through some memories with you, honey. The doctor said holding up different objects for you might help as well,” stated Mom.

My parents proceeded to tell me about my brother, John, who was older than me and always took care of me. I felt a memory coming, and rapidly I saw my brother and me at a very young age. We were jumping in puddles and playing in the rain. Our parents yelled at us to get back inside, and the scene faded away as I found myself back in the hospital bed.

“I remember my brother!”

“Great! He’ll be so excited to see you in two days when we take you home.” said Dad.

“Wait- take me home?”

“Yes, we worked with Dr. Ramiz and decided that we could bring you home, help regain your memory and give you your medicines there.”

“That’s great!”

For the rest of the day, Mom and Dad refreshed my memory more and more—some things I remembered and some I didn’t. When they left, more nurses came in to freshen up my IV fluids and have me take my meds. I went to bed with about thirty to forty new memories with more coming as I gently closed my eyelids.

The next morning, Mom and Dad were there before I awoke and this time when we spoke, I asked lots of questions. “Where do we live?”

“Here, in Boston.”

“What is my favorite food?”

“Grilled cheese.”

I kept asking until they eventually got worn down from my stream of questions. Anyways, I was getting hungry, but as I looked at my side table and grabbed my phone and wallet, Dad immediately snatched them both out of my hand. 

“Hey! Why would you take away my phone? I should be able to look at pictures to jog my memory and call my friends!!”

Dad and Mom looked at each other in that fearful way again, their eyes grew wide  and their eyebrows raised just the slightest bit—suspicious.

“No Skye, Dr. Ramiz said that having your phone while you are still recovering is not good for you,” said Dad in a harsh tone.

“I never heard her say that..”

“Well, she said it to us—do you not trust me?” His voice was rising and I began to feel uncomfortable. I backed down, still feeling confused and hurt.

They abruptly left to get me lunch from the hospital cafeteria. When they came back, they brought a peanut butter and jelly sandwich along with two cups of pudding.

“Hey, sorry for before, we were just anxious about your progress and everything.”

The apology didn’t seem sincere though—it felt fake, just like their smiles. The warmth I had felt in those memories with them just wasn’t here.

“Hopefully this pudding helps,” relayed a smiling Mom as she pushed towards me a crinkly plastic cup.

“Oh, you’re fine, I get it. Thanks for the pudding.”

I still felt weird about the whole phone situation. The pudding did help a little, but as I finished eating, my parents said they were tired and had to return back home. It was only 3:00, so my guess was that they had to tend to my brother or something. Tomorrow, when I woke up, I would at least be going home.

As night fell later, I couldn’t fall asleep. The questions came crawling back into my head, overwhelming me with thoughts of all kinds, some worrisome and others exciting. I would get to meet my brother finally and return home to my friends and family. What a journey—I never would’ve thought I would be leaving this hospital so quickly. I tried to reassure myself that everything was going to be okay, and that all of my memories would come back to me one day. I took a nice, deep, long breath as my mind faded out…

I heard the softest hits of rain against my window the next morning; my eyes were still shut, but I could smell the wet grass. Today I would return home, how exciting! Yet for some odd reason I felt… off… like I was missing something—like when you can’t find the last piece of the puzzle. I dismissed these swirling thoughts and saw Dr. Ramiz come into my room.

“Skye! So happy for you! We’ll miss you here, even if it was only for a few days you stayed. If you ever have trouble with memory or are having pain again, here’s my number to give me a call.”

“Thanks! Yeah I’m excited to leave, no offense. I just want to go back to my regular life now.”

The door opened once more and in came my parents. My bag was already packed, although I didn’t really have much stuff to bring home.

“Skye, we wanted to apologize about the phone situation. It was our fault we got so angry, so we wanted to make it up to you…” said Dad as he handed me a box.


All that drama was in my head, and I was being paranoid.

“Glad you like it! The only thing is, we weren’t able to transfer anything from your old phone over to your new one; it wasn’t working for some reason,” Mom said.

“Oh that’s ok Mom, you can just give me my old phone, so I can put the contacts in and send pictures to myself!”

“NO! I mean we exchanged your old phone in to buy this new one, and they wiped all the data off of it.” 

“Oh, ok! That makes sense.”

I was overwhelmed with joy; the sensation of getting a new phone felt like I was opening gifts on Christmas; however, Mom’s “no” shocked me a bit. It was sort of… harsh. Oh well, this worked for me—I now had Dr. Ramiz, Mom, and Dad’s numbers.

I got changed into some comfier sweats and grabbed my bag, taking one final look at the hospital room. Wow. I couldn’t believe how much I went through here. I had a brief moment of sadness, but it was only for a second. I shut the door to the room and went back with my parents out of the hospital into the car.

“Sweetie, this is your older brother, John. He flew all the way back from college in California to be here.”

I looked over at my brother, who grinned widely. He was wearing sunglasses and sweats. Sunglasses? That seemed a bit odd, especially when it was pretty grey outside. Oh well, maybe he just thought he looked cool. 

“SKYE! SO GLAD TO SEE YOU!!” my brother said as he gave me a big hug.

“JOHN!! So happy to see you too!!”

“Now Skye, the drive is going to be about 2 hours. We live outside the city, in a sort of… remote place” said Dad.

That sounded nice. Quiet, peaceful, remote—they all went together. As we started to drive, I was captivated by all the different stores and signs on the road. 

I looked over at my brother and he was fidgeting with his hands. He kept twitching his neck and twiddling his fingers. Weird. He took off his sunglasses, rubbing his forehead to calm himself down. When John looked over at me, his eyes looked…glossy. I recognized their distinct nature. They looked almost…fake. 

Suddenly, a memory flashed into my head. Green, gaseous green, everywhere. I saw myself on the ground, coughing and dripping blood from my mouth. In the faint distance, I could see a tall slim man and a petite woman. But most of all, I saw those eyes, my brother’s glossy, beady eyes, staring at me. He was pouring out this green gas…pouring it from his mouth. I heard a voice, one that I recognized, calling for a “Mr. Blair.” It was the couple in the far corner of my sight. My brother, or whoever he was, stood up, closed his mouth filled with green vapor, and walked away with the couple. Them—I recognized the couple. That was Dad’s voice, and Mom was with him. So was Mr. Blair, my brother, my—I didn’t even know anymore. 


I rolled down the window, banged on the doors, screaming and kicking to get someone’s attention. 

“Honey, she knows. BLAIR, LOCK HER UP.”

I screamed again and again, kicking Mr. Blair and trying to get my phone to call 911.

  1. 1. 1- 

Mr. Blair grabbed my phone, put it in his mouth, and ate it. He ate it right there. As for my parents, or whoever they were, they began to drive faster.

“Grace, we need to hurry up with this…elimination process. NOW!”

“Steve, I’m driving as fast as I can.”

These were not my parents, and this was not my family. Mr. Blair grabbed my neck and squeezed it so tight that I thought my face turned purple. He threw me against the window, gashing my head with the glass. I tasted the blood in my mouth—a feeling so familiar, a memory that had been unlocked.

I gasped for breath, trying to bring myself to say something.

“I won’t give you the satisfaction of killing me. I remember now, but I  will not give you the pleasure of torturing the person who knows your secret. Your secret may never get out, but as long as I am still breathing, I will give you no satisfaction that your plan worked.”

They all stared at me. I smiled with a devilish grin, knowing they would hurt me in a heartbeat. Although I just regained my memory, I knew I would never escape. I’d rather die than be tortured for life.

In the car pockets, I saw a pen and paper. I rushed to write something down, just in case someone did indeed find my body. Mr. Blair was frozen for a moment and the Connos tried to cool him down.

“MURDERER, BLAIR, CONNOS” were the only words I could get down. My handwriting was messy, but it was legible enough for someone to read it. I put the note in my pocket as Blair’s hands reached around my throat.

He pinned me to the door and I knew that he would kill me in an instant.

“BLAIR DON’T. DON’T GIVE HER WHAT SHE WANTS. DON’T DO IT” screamed Steve and Grace, or the Connos as I now remembered. 

Mr. Blair looked at them, but he couldn’t quite understand what they were telling him to do. It seemed his mission was to kill. He opened his mouth and the familiar lime green vapor surrounded my face. I knew what happened next; the green fades to black, but suddenly it all faded away.  

The sound of horses and cows woke me up. The sun was shining directly in my eyes, and my sight was not fully adjusted to the brightness of the room. I was in a wooden bed and my back ached a lot. My mind couldn’t seem to capture what was going on.

Two people came into the little wooden room, a tall slim man and a short woman. My head was spinning from getting up too fast, and the wind blew right against my face. 

“Hello darling! We’re so glad you’re up. I’m Grace and this is my husband Steve! We found you on the side of the road, you poor thing!”

“Why was I on the side of the road? Where am I? Who are you?”

The couple looked dirty, and they both reeked of some acid smell.

“Well sugar pie we don’t know! We just were driving in our truck and saw you laying in the grass. I told Grace we gotta get this child back to our place and give her shelter. My goodness, you were passed out for a long time. We thought you were dead by the time we got you!”

Their accents were surely southern, but as my brain was processing the information it went right through me.

“Well welcome to our farm! We can take you in until you find your family, do you know who they are?” said Grace.

“Um, no.”

“Do you know where they live? Where you were last, or when you last saw them?” Grace asked once again.

“No, no, and no. All I know is that I woke up here and that my head hurts, a lot”

“My golly! It seems you might have lost your memory! Steve, go fetch this girl some water and ice. Sweetheart, you can stay here until you remember, we don’t mind the extra company at all.”

“That is awfully kind of you, thank you. Could I just have some time alone, I’m a bit dazed right now?”

Grace nodded and left the room, as Steve returned with some ice and water for my head. I didn’t know what to say—my brain felt empty, almost like there was nothing left. I took a look at myself in the mirror in the corner. There were cuts on my cheek, bruises on my neck, and dried blood on my teeth. My clothes were dusty and muddy, and I looked as if I was beaten by a boxer. Although it was sunny, the wind was strong and mighty. The farm did not have heating, or at least in this room. I snuggled under the blanket on the bed and put my hands deep into my pockets.

A paper fluttered out into my palms. It was rough, and the writing on it was messy. The room seemed a bit less dizzy than before, but my body groaned and my stomach rumbled. I couldn’t read the note very well with all the pain I was in, so I just put it back into my pocket and went back to sleep.

When I woke up again, there was another man standing outside my door, not Steve though. He was in sweats as well, and had sunglasses covering his eyes. He didn’t say anything, but merely stood there, watching me roll back and forth across the bed. When he left, I saw there was a sandwich on the side table, but I was nowhere near hungry. I pulled out the note again, for the dizziness had died down, and I tried to read it. The only word I could etch out was “murderer,” and the other words seemed foreign to me. Murderer, why would that be on the note? It seemed fairly odd, like some sort of clue…

I saw it. My mind whirled back to the setting of a car, with three other people in it.

The man, I saw him there in his shades. This time though he was coming towards me, pounding his fists against the air, looking like he was ready to pounce at any moment. The farmers, they were there as well in the front seat. They said something, but I couldn’t remember. I saw the note once more, and I was the one writing it. I saw the words “Blair” and “Connos” next to “murderers.” The name triggered something in me and sounded vaguely familiar. 

When the memory faded, I knew I was in deep trouble. These people are not who they say they are. I couldn’t tell them I remembered the car scene, for they might try to kill me again. I thought about running away into the forest beyond the farm and getting out of my bed, but my body was still recovering. At least they didn’t know that I knew. 

I kept quiet for the rest of the day, staying in bed with my thoughts wandering to far off places. I needed to escape—and quickly. It was already sunset, so time was running out. Outside my window, there was a tunnel. That’s it. The tunnel would be my escape. The Connos would not check there, and once I made it to the other side I would guide myself to the nearest highway and hitchhike out of this place.

“Hey there sugar pie! We brought you some soup for supper. I’ll just leave it on the bedside table, in case you want it. It’s mighty good, it’s my grammy’s recipe!” spoke Grace, or Mrs. Conno.

She sounded nothing like the memory in the car, for in the car she had no thick southern accent. Maybe she was trying to cover her voice up, so I didn’t recognize it. 

“Oh thank you, I’ll have some later.”

Grace left the room, leaving the steaming hot soup beside me. The warmth from the steam felt nice on my face, and the soup tasted creamy and delicious. This would give me some energy at least.

As night fell, the barn grew quiet, eerie almost. I snuck out of my room through the window when everyone fell asleep, climbing out as silently as I could to not wake up the Connos.

Outside, it smelled strongly of manure from the cows. Everything was still; the animals were deep asleep, the barn creaked occasionally, but nothing moved besides the wind. I only had myself and my note to guide me. Reaching the tunnel, I marveled at its surprisingly large nature —thank goodness. Looking back at the farm, I felt the beat of my heart quicken. This escape was risky, but it was a risk I had to take. 

 The tunnel was pitch black with mud at the bottom and all I could hear was the soft sound of some crickets. I crawled for the first few minutes until the tunnel widened so I could stand. My legs were drenched in brown muddy liquid or whatever gunk there was at the bottom. 

“Just keep going. Just keep going. Just keep…”

I collapsed into the mud from the extreme pain I was in. Each step was harder than the last, but I forced myself up, for if I fell here there was no way I could survive. Each step was a struggle, and my thirst and hunger grew stronger as time passed. It was already 4 AM, meaning it had been three hours since I left. The sun would rise soon, so I had to move fast to not be caught. I pushed the thoughts of pain, hunger, thirst, and wants out of my head, only focusing on the tunnel ahead.

A few hours passed with no sign of life, but after a little, I could hear footsteps! It was light out and there was enough light to see signs in the tunnel and the mud on the ground. The footsteps—they were coming from above! I looked up and there was an exit with a circle door. An exit! This was it. I pulled open the door and the light came piercing through. Light! Once my eyes fully adjusted, I saw where I was. A store! A hotel! People on the sidewalk! 

I made it, I truly did. I had no sense of what to do now, but I didn’t even care. I was free, free of murder, free of trouble, free. That moment a memory came to mind, but it wasn’t a bad one.

“Hey there are you ok?” said a man who saw me covered in mud off the street.

“Yes, I am, for real this time. Can I borrow your phone?”

He handed me his phone. I called the number from the memory.

“Hello, is this Dr. Ramiz?”

“Yes, is this Skye Martin?”

“Yes, yes it is. I am on 49th street, can you meet me? There are some things I need, it’s a long story.”

“Yeah of course! I’ll be there in 20 minutes”

I had lived through attempted murder twice, and now escaped the troubles. I had the advantage now, for I could share my story, exploit the Connos, and return safely to my family. Freedom was finally in the palm of my hands.